


Goin' Huntin'

by bmlhillenkeene



Series: Gentle [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, D/s relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:32:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmlhillenkeene/pseuds/bmlhillenkeene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl and Shane have moved in together, but Daryl is still unsure of their newly renegotiated agreement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goin' Huntin'

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Prompt on the Kink Meme (which it very long so I will not copy it here) ; http://twd-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/5396.html?thread=7791636#t7791636
> 
> Basically it asked for Shane/Daryl in a consensual, gentle D/s relationship. Now this hit a few buttons for me, because I don't belive that all D/s relationships have to have pain play or humilation, or anything like that, and it seemed like a good time to write something.
> 
> I ave probably gotten the characters totally wrong, but forgive me please. Also note, if you're expecting sex, I don't write sex. Sorry.

“I’ma goin’ huntin’.”

Shane looked up from staring blearily into his coffee. Still not entirely sure how he had made it all the way downstairs so early in the morning. He hated the early shift at the station so very, very much. He blamed his hatred of early morning wakeups, for the fact that he didn’t notice the way Daryl had sort of stopped, hesitant, halfway out the door, looking back like he expected something.

Realising the other man was probably waiting for some sort of response, he waved a hand. “Be careful.”

But Daryl didn’t leave, just frowned deeper, still waiting for something.

“I’ma goin’ huntin’.” He said again, in that slow tone Shane was beginning to learn meant he thought he was doing something wrong. “Might be gone a night or two.”

They’d only just, two weeks previous, moved in together into Shane’s house, though Shane was already looking at properties closer to the woods, because he knew Daryl liked to just take a walk in nature on a whim, and living in the town made nature a good half hours’ drive away.

It had been two weeks of hashing out the rules of their relationship, which had changed significantly from what it had been.

Having a working, functioning, consensual d/s relationship was harder than the internet made it out to be. Shane didn’t want to fall into the trap of controlling too much, but at the same time, he’d long since recognised Daryl’s need for someone else to be in charge, it was one of the things that had kept the other man living at home with his father for so long. But one of the things Shane had vowed not to do, at any stage, even if it conflicted with his own plans, was prevent Daryl from seeking his solace with nature.

The man had come from a lifetime of abuse, right up until he’d somehow, impossibly, fallen into this thing with Shane. His only escape had been taking off into the woods for days on end to avoid yet another violent drunken binge from a father who hadn’t had the good sense to die in gutter years ago. Him wanting to take off had nothing to do with Shane, and more to do with his own state of mind.

It was only after he went back over what Daryl said, that he realised that Daryl expected him to stop him. He expected Shane to tell him “No.” He pushed himself to his feet and made his way around the table until he was standing in front of Daryl. He reached out, pausing before making contact to let the reflexive flinch happen before touching him.

“Daryl,” he said, “this is one thing you are never going to need to ask permission for. So long as you tell me you’re going so I don’t make an ass of myself calling the whole force out to find you we’re golden on this one, ok?”

Daryl still looked uncertain. So Shane kissed him lightly. “Be careful.” He repeated, and finally Daryl moved, out the door and towards his truck, already packed with his hunting gear, crossbow propped up on the passenger side window. “And don’t bring any squirrels back. No matter what you say or how much you burn them they still don’t taste like chicken!”

Daryl turned back, eyes searching his face, but Shane was only teasing (though he could definitely do without the squirrels, no matter what Daryl believed they were not adequate substitutes for regular meat). “Screw that,” Daryl said, turning back to climb into his truck. “You’re having squirrel every night for a week now.”

Shane shook his head, and waved him off, resigning himself to barbequed squirrel, and maybe, if he was lucky, some rabbit stew. Once the early morning crisis was over he returned to his seat, slumped down and went back to his coffee and lamenting his early morning shifts.

\---

Daryl was back the next morning, looking tired, but more at ease, and Shane could only shake his head and smile at the new squirrel tail flag attached to his cars antennae.


End file.
